


Introspection

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Big Brother Dean, Bisexual Sam, Dean is an ally, Gen, Hunter!verse, John disapproved, M/M, No Wincest, One Night Stands, Past Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is coming to terms with who he is, as a young man. Now that it is just Dean and him, he is free to explore what it means to be Sam. So between hunts, he turns his gaze inward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Introspection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bookishgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookishgirl/gifts).



> Prompt fill

The water was running cold.

Sam opened his eyes, lifted his chin, and sighed. He could never seem to get time to himself to think. On the other hand, sometimes he suspected he got entirely too much time to think. Those were the times he reached for the Hunter’s Helper.

Nights like this in general were cause for whiskey. Dean had not even blinked at him when he had returned to their room with a bit of a stumble. Sam had thought for a moment that he had seen a light eyebrow arch, but it may have been his imagination. He had headed straight for the shower, which Dean had probably appreciated.

Once he was scrubbed down, he had stared into the steam until it began to feel like morning rain instead. He turned off the water and stepped out without bothering with a towel. For a while, he just watched the mirror fog dissipate, ignoring the chill on his skin.

He stared in dissociation at his own body as it was slowly revealed. He analyzed it from an emotionless point of view.

Sturdy. Strong. Lean. Tall. Heavy but graceful. Scarred, but unbroken.

Scarred, but unbroken.

The words, muttered dispassionately inside his own head, made him smile. Wasn't that just what he was? Scarred, all over, from his toes to his scalp. But largely in one piece. It was something to be proud of. It was something to be grateful for, and bewildered at. Any one of these scars represented the day some creature could have ended him. They had faded, for the most part, but he remembered them, even if no one else could see them. He had always healed quickly. Of course he had. The demon blood made sure of it.

He licked his lips and gazed into his own eyes. They were hazel green at the moment. Sam liked his eyes. They were the one thing he had always liked about his reflection. When he was a child, he had hidden them behind his hair. In the past year or so, he had learned to push the strands from his eyes, to peer out and let others see in, because it was a sign of strength to stare down an opponent, to stare down the world. It was especially important, he had learned, to do so when he felt weak. He wasn't sure when he had begun clawing his hair out of his eyes. Sometime after John had died.

“Sammy?”

A smile bloomed on his face without permission, and he sighed contentedly. “What?” he called. Part of him still wanted to correct the name. But Dean had earned it. And he still caught himself calling his brother “De” in times of stress. It was subtle, and it was possible Dean didn't even hear the difference. But Sam could hear it as he bit the name in half, crying for his brother through clenched teeth. There had been far too many opportunities for anguished cries of old familial nicknames over the years.

Dean’s voice was husky with weariness. It sounded like he had dozed off while waiting. “Sammy?” he said again. “You in there for the night? Need me to hold your hair?”

Sam might have glared if Dean could see him. Instead he snorted a laugh. “I'll be out in a minute. Go to sleep.”

“Just making sure you're still vertical. Bathroom’s kinda small to pass out in.”

“I'm not drunk.” Sam wrapped a towel around himself belatedly. He had practically air dried by now.

Dean pushed a car magazine off the bed onto his duffle below. “Yeah? Looked a little pissed when you came in. ‘Course, that was an hour ago.”

Sam shrugged. “Sorry. I didn't know you needed me to tuck you in and give you a bedtime story.”

His brother, to his credit, did not take the bait. “What's wrong, Sam? We did good work out there today. Kids are going to live who wouldn't have if we hadn't come to town. Not to mention the ladies we each saved from boredom.”

His eyes flicked to meet his brother's, then hurried away. “Yeah. Um, mine wasn't.”

“What? Bored?” Then he raised his eyebrows. “Oh. Oh. Sorry. The...locals we saved from boredom.”

Sam began to chuckle as he dressed. He appreciated Dean’s effort to make their evening entertainment gender-neutral. “Yeah.”

He could feel Dean watching him. “You okay, little brother? There some local who needs his ass kicked out there?”

He snorted again. He pulled his tee over his head and dropped onto his bed. He lay on his belly and rested his head on his hand while looking at Dean. “Would you offer that if it were a lady and not a local?”

“I don't discriminate,” Dean insisted, as he turned off the light, leaving them with just moonlight from the window. “Bitch messes with my kid brother, I'll take her out soon’s a son of a bitch.”

Sam laughed. “Dean, it was a hookup, not a ghoul.”

Dean shrugged. “Just saying. No difference.”

The younger man took a deep breath. “Dad would have seen a difference.”

There was a tiny flinch on the other bed. “Dad ain't here.”

“No, I know. But I'm just...He hated it. You know he did.”

Dean sighed, and draped his strong arm across his eyes. “Dad was from a different generation, man. He just didn't get it.”

“There were bisexual people in his generation too. And the one before that. And throughout history.”

“Dude, don't lecture me. I'm on your side, okay? You know that.”

Sam bit his lip, then nodded. “I know,” he said then, turning to stare up at the dark ceiling. “I'm sorry. I've just been thinking all night how Dad would have followed me out tonight to make sure I wasn't hooking up with a guy. I'm glad you don't need to do that.”

“It's none of my business.” They were silent for a long time, then Dean cleared his throat. “I'm curious, though.”

“About what?” he said wearily.

He cleared his throat again. “I don't know. Just...how do you decide?”

A surprised laugh burst out. “What?”

Dean sat up a little, and shrugged with an uncharacteristic awkwardness. “Okay, you told me-and I get it-that it isn't like you're gay some days and straight other days.”

Sam snickered.

“So when you're in a town after a hunt, how do you decide what you want? Is it like, sometimes I want a burger and sometimes I feel more like ribs? Dude, shut up! Stop laughing at me, all right? I'm trying to understand you, jackass.”

He sobered as well as he could. “I don't know! I mean, do you have a craving for blondes some nights and Asian beauties other nights? Because it's more like that. I go someplace looking for something pretty. Somebody who seems to not mind the one-nighters.”

“What if it weren't?”

Sam took note of Dean’s quiet voice. He frowned. “Weren't what?”

“One night. What would you do? What would you look for if you could settle with somebody?”

He was grateful that the lights were out now, because he knew the look on both of their faces, full of heartbreak and lonely longing. “I'd look for someone who could make me laugh. Someone who was smart and independent and strong. Someone who wanted me in spite of what I am. Someone I was attracted to, who was attracted to me. Someone I could love without holding back. Someone who gets that a tiny piece of me will always belong to Jess. Someone who accepts my brother comes first, no matter what, that if he needs me, I drop everything to fight at his side. Everything.”

Dean was smiling. It was in his voice. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Me too.”

“Goodnight, De.”

“‘Night, Sammy. Get some sleep. We got work to do.”

Sam stared into the darkness until sleep took him, feeling strangely at peace with the universe and himself. There was no one like Dean to make him feel like there was nothing wrong with him. Just for a little while, he wasn't a freak. He was Dean Winchester's little brother. It was the only identity he ever really needed. That said it all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please comment and/or recommend!
> 
> ~Posing


End file.
